


stranger's hands

by maggierachael



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BB-8 is a BABY, F/M, actual single dad poe dameron, an actual human baby, and trainee pilot rey, because i have no restraint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggierachael/pseuds/maggierachael
Summary: Rey Kelly is a ridiculous, reckless grad student who flies planes on the side for fun. Poe Dameron is a single dad who's just trying to pay the bills. Finn Franklin has a housewarming party, and Poe brings his guitar and his son. Rey brings the booze and the sarcasm. They go from there.





	stranger's hands

**Author's Note:**

> Initially wrote this out of sheer force of will after spending a while calling Poe Dameron a single dad because of how much he babies BB-8. I needed some Actual Single Dad Poe Dameron in my life. 
> 
> Title stolen from the NightLab song "Stranger's Hands", because I'm actual human garbage. 
> 
> (Also. Katie. If you see this. It's your fault.)

There’s nothing worse at a party than a douchebag with a guitar. Nobody likes the guy that brings his turtleneck and his Les Paul to a house party just to attempt to impress girls with shitty covers of Wonderwall and Hotel California that everybody is pretty sure are off-key anyway. It kills whatever meager mood had been mustered up for the night.

Rey Kelly hated those kinds of guys.

Well, to be fair, she hated parties in general.They were crowded, they were usually loud, and she usually ended up in the corner, talking to whatever old aunt or grandmother or neighbor happened to be in attendance instead of the people her own age. She could drink a man twice her size under table, but not once had she been at a house party with decent alcohol.

So, she felt like she had a reason to hate them. But then again, so did Finn, and this was his housewarming party. Maybe that meant she had some kind of obligation to stay for more than a few drinks.

Either way, she was there and there was no turning back, so she prayed to the Maker that this night wouldn’t suck.

There were already a significant amount of people at Finn’s new apartment when Rey and Rose, her roommate and resident bad idea-haver, arrived, even though it was only 6:30. It wasn’t a sardine can just yet, but Rey couldn’t imagine what the place was going to be like in a few hours, when everybody had at least one beer in them and Finn insisted on showing off the new stereo system she knew he’d bought for the apartment.

They left their housewarming gift by the door - a set of monogrammed cocktail shakers with “FRANKLIN” and the gang’s honors fraternity crest etched into the sides. They’d cost the girls an arm and a leg to afford between the two of them, but Finn was worth it. The three of them had been friends since undergrad, and it was more than likely the girls would see him use those shakers on one of their frequent future visits.

Rey dropped the box in the coat room (read: guest bedroom) with the rest of the gifts and made her way to where Rose was standing with the rest of the crowd. She could hear soft guitar music as she made her way over, and figured Finn had already started showing off the stereo system.

She sidled up to Rose, who was bobbing along to the music’s cadence, and noted the significant lack of speakers set up in the living room. Also noted was the significant lack of Finn, replaced rather by a guy with an acoustic guitar who seemed to have enthralled the entire party. He was leaning against the far wall, clearly absorbed in whatever song he was playing as he strummed away.

More focused on finding Finn, Rey was ready to dismiss him as the party’s signature Douchebag With the Guitar and head straight for the kitchen without giving him much attention, but Rose stopped her with an arm across her chest. She pointed with her other hand towards where he was sitting, on a box labeled “TEXTBOOKS” as he strummed away at his guitar.

And Rey was glad she gave him a second glance, because _fuck_ , this guy was pretty.

It wasn’t a guitar-player type of pretty, either. There were echoes of it in the way he played the beat up acoustic, the way his hands coasted over the strings so lightly it was like he was afraid to break them, but that wasn’t what struck Rey. He wasn’t eyeing up the girls circled around him, giving them those gross, cocky looks that guys who were trying to look charming (and get laid) gave girls when they played guitar. No, he was focused on the music; his eyes were closed and his whole body was bobbing to the beat as he played. Black curls fell in front of a face that Michaelangelo would’ve been jealous of as he strummed out chord after chord, and Rey was convinced that the room could’ve been empty and he would’ve played the exact same way.

She didn’t recognize the song he was playing, but she could’ve listened to him sing it all day. It was pretty, and it sure as hell wasn’t Wonderwall.

“ _Sweet lady death, sweet lady death, got heaven in your big bright eyes and the devil on your breath, sweet lady death...sweet lady death, sweet lady death, once you get those pretty hooks inside, there’s no escapin’ it…_ ”

It was like he didn’t even have to try. It was a voice perfect for lullabies, the kind that could put anybody to sleep with little effort. Rey was entranced by this song about love and loss and whatever else he felt like singing about. She’d listen to him for ages. Forever, maybe.

“ _Your kiss tastes like Skittles, and your body’s sweet as soda pop, and every time you leave the room, I can feel my blood sugar drop…_ ”

Unfortunately, that’s when the mysterious guitar player decided to open his eyes - and consequently make direct eye contact with Rey.

His eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him, and they sent Rey into immediate panic mode as soon as they met with hers. She felt that if she didn’t break from them, she’d get lost in them forever.

Her fight-or-flight response immediately dragged her out of the room and into the kitchen, where she suddenly felt thirsty enough to slam ten pints of Guinness and forget all the weird thoughts she’d just had about Mr. Wonderwall. She went directly for the fridge and, in absence of any decent beer, pulled out a bottle of pink wine that somebody had obviously given Finn as a gift. (That boy skipped right over wine and went straight to liquor.)

She poured herself a double (can you do that with wine?) and leaned against the counter for a while, tendrils of guitar chords reaching out to her from the living room. Fortunately, she was far enough away that the siren song didn’t affect her, and she was able to curl up next to the fridge with her rosé, sipping it and hoping nobody would notice her all by herself.

The mini-concert crowd dispersed a few minutes later, and Rey finally caught Finn on his way into the kitchen to give him a proper hug and a punch on the arm like old times. It was going to be weird not having him in their apartment over the hardware store, but at least now they would have a place with more floor space for when they had their annual Pizza and Twister Night. This apartment was only a five minute walk from their old place downtown, and Finn assured her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

At least in the long term, because he took off soon after to greet more guests and left Rey all alone in the kitchen, still nursing her drink. Rose turned up eventually, but for a while Rey was frozen there in fear, hoping that Mysterious Guitar Man wasn’t thirsty enough to find the fridge, where she’d see him and consequently have to explain why she fled like a spooked rabbit away from him while was playing.

The kitchen was comfy enough, and Rey and Rose enjoyed themselves there for a while, commenting on the state of the appliances and attempting to guess how many boxes of PopTarts one human could reasonably fit in the cabinets above the stove. It was dumb, aimless conversation between two best friends, and eventually it petered out enough that Rose started to people watch after a while.

And once she did, lo and behold, there he was - Guitar Man, sauntering over to the fridge, just as Rey had feared.

Rose waved excitedly at him as he approached, even though she’d never met him, and her signature Tico Charm was just as effective on him as it was on everybody else, and her compliments on his playing brought him into their small circle as he sipped slyly on something in a Solo cup.

Up close, Rey could tell he was probably a handful of years older than her; his eyes said more, and he didn’t look as dead to the world as grad students usually did. But Christ on a cracker, he was pretty enough to stop traffic.

Also pretty enough to stop Rey’s brain from functioning properly, apparently.

“I don’t believe we’ve formally met yet,” he said after Rose had finished complimenting him. His voice sounded just as nice when he wasn’t singing, Rey thought. How was that fair? “Poe Dameron. Nice to meet you.”

Poe Dameron. That was a nice name. Unique. Rey thought she recognized the surname, but she couldn’t be sure. It suited him.

Rey nodded several times, trying to plaster a non-nervous looking smile on her face. She shouldn’t be nervous. This was like any other meet and greet. She’d been through a million at school. Why was this one any different?

Oh, right. Because none of the ones at school involved talking to a hot older guitar player.

“Reina Kelly.” Her voice sounded far away, like she was controlling a POV character in a video game. “I’m...uh...shit, where is he…”

She twisted her torso around, searching the crowd for Finn’s football player frame to point him out, but obviously he had disappeared somewhere to play Host Who Was Already Slightly Tipsy, leaving her and Rose stranded with Actual Human Ray of Sunshine Poe Dameron. Not that that was a bad thing, but Rey was fairly certain the light from his smile was frying her brain.

Luckily, Rose could read Rey like a book.

“We’re Finn’s old roommates,” she said, coming to her best friend’s rescue. She extended a tiny hand to give Rey more time to collect herself. “She usually goes by Rey. I’m Rose Tico.”

Poe chuckled and shook Rose’s hand.

“I’ve heard about you two,” he said. “Nice to finally put some faces to the infamous names.”

He extended his hand to Rey, and it took her a few seconds to process that he, Apollo incarnate, wanted to make physical contact with a groundling like her. She shook it gently and tried to laugh daintily, but it didn’t really work.

“I can’t imagine what he’s told you that earns the word infamous,” she replied, “But whatever it is, I’m gonna kill him for it.”

Poe laughed - a genuine, hearty, from-the-belly laugh, and her stomach did backflips that would earn Olympic gold medals. They got even worse as his eyes lingered on her face for a moment, and she had to bite down on her cheek to keep from shuddering.

“Nothing too, terrible, I promise.” He paused for a second, his eyes still on her face, then raised his eyebrows.

“England?"

He gestured vaguely to her face, which Rey supposed was the male version of asking about her accent. It wasn’t the first time somebody had asked her about it, so at least she could answer this with some confidence.

“Cape Town, actually.”

She shrugged When Poe gave her a blank expression, she word-vomited a clarification. Because of course.

“South Africa.” She wrung her hands out like dish towels and hoped Poe wouldn’t notice her nerves. “We split our time between there and Niima Outpost in Angola. But my uncle Ben was from Westminster, so that probably explains the Queen’s English.”

She chuckled half-heartedly and let her eyes fall to the floor, where she studied her own white-gone-tan Chucks with relish. Poe seemed unbothered, and actually rather impressed, based on the noise she heard him make.

“Very nice,” he said. “Honestly, I didn’t know Finn had any female friends. Hell, before this party, I didn’t know he had friends, period.”

Rey looked up from her feet and quirked an eyebrow.

“What does that make you, then?” she asked.

Poe gave her a grin that could’ve lit up a darkened room, and she thought she was going to melt into the brand new carpet.

“I’m the devil on his shoulder.”

He quirked an eyebrow back at her, and the look on his face made Rey want to scream.

Was he trying to flirt with her?

She must’ve had too much rosé already.

Before she could say anything in an attempt to confirm her suspicions, however, their little three-person circle was broken as somebody else approached Poe, clapping a hand on his shoulder that forced him to tear his eyes away from her, thank God.

It was a woman with the prettiest cheekbones Rey had ever seen, holding a baby that couldn’t have been more than two years old. Rey was a little bit shocked that somebody would bring a baby to a party, but the kid seemed happy enough, especially when he saw Poe, who looked equally happy; his face lit up as he greeted the women, an arm wrapping around her as the baby reached out and tangled his tiny fingers in Poe’s shirt.

Rey looked from the baby, to the woman, and back to the baby, then at Poe; she tried her hardest to not let her face fall as she noticed the way Poe greeted them. She’d known this guy for all of ten minutes, obviously he would have a life outside of this party. And who would blame him? The woman was gorgeous. Like, model gorgeous. Like, so-gorgeous-it-made-Rey’s-lip-  
gloss-and-bad-eyeliner-wings-look-like-hot-garbage gorgeous. She was wearing overalls nearly identical to Rey’s, but made them look straight off the runway, rather than the Straight Outta the Dumpster look Rey was rocking. Everything about her was effortless, from the messy bun to her smile to the way the baby she was holding looked so happy.

Rey silently resigned herself to her drink. Obviously, she’d misread the signals Poe was giving her, and this woman was his wife, or girlfriend, or fiance, or whatever significant other adjective fit the bill, and the little squirt in her arms was their kid, and she was going to die alone.

What had she been thinking? She was twenty-four, a kid who was barely halfway through grad school, and Poe was probably in his mid-thirties with a stable job and a nice house in the good part of town. Of course he would have a girl. What could she possibly have to offer a guy like that?

_He looks just like his dad,_ she thought as Poe fawned over the boy, turning back to the focusing on the kid rather than the creeping tendrils of her nerves. He had the same face, the same curly, untamable black hair and eyes that could speak without words. The resemblance was unmistakable.

Finally, Poe turned away from the baby and the wife/fiancee/significant other/etc and looked back to Rose and Rey. His face was as bright as ever, and Rey could barely make eye contact. She figured that she finally understood what the phrase “look at them like they were the sun” meant.

“Since we’re doing introductions,” he said, snapping Rey out of her cloud of thoughts, “This is my cousin, Jess Pava. She and Finn finished undergrad together.”

Rey snapped to attention almost immediately.

_Cousin?_

Poe grinned widely. “She helps me take care of BB when he gets cranky.”

Rose scrunched her nose.

“BB?”

Poe nodded and gestured to the gurgling baby.

“Brady Beckett Dameron,” he said. “We call him BB for short.”

He tickled under the little guy’s chin, and Rey nearly choked on her drink when they both giggled in response.

“He’s beautiful,” she rasped out after a searing gulp of rosé. _Just like you._

Poe turned his smile to her.

“Thank you.”

At that point, Rey was fairly certain that Poe Dameron was going to be the death of her.

Rose nodded a few times, trying to figure out a way to not make the conversation awkward but remain on the same subject.

“Are you...divorced?” It was a touchy question, but The Gang was never known for their quality respect for boundaries.

Jess shook her head before Poe could respond.

“His mom took off when he was a week old,” she said. Her face made it look as if the thought of it left a bad taste in her mouth, and Rey didn’t blame her. “She left a note on the door saying she couldn’t handle it. Gone without a trace. Poe’s been taking care of Brady ever since.”

Rey noticed Poe flinch just slightly. She didn’t blame him; she’d do the same thing if somebody brought up something so painful at a party.

But the expression was there and gone in the fraction of a second, and he was patting Jess on the back before anybody could say anything else.

“And Jess helps me out,” he cut in. “Takes a village, right?”

Rey nodded. “Right.”

Actual single dad Poe Dameron. Holy _shit_.

The Dameron/Pava cousins were some of the nicest people Rey had ever met, she discovered as the conversation moved on, and she felt slightly guilty for judging Jess so harshly because she had some dumb infatuation with her cousin. She told herself to talk to Rose later about inviting her out for drinks sometime; the more female friends they could gather into their circle, the better.

Eventually, Jess handed BB off to Poe, and after a few minutes of conversation about Finn and how nice his new apartment was, everybody wandered off in separate directions to socialize with the rest of the guests.

Rey remained in the kitchen, a gargoyle standing sentinel over the booze and tortilla chips. She could be socializing, but that wasn’t exactly her strong suit. She wasn’t the personable type, wasn’t somebody that was good at talking to other people. She was sarcastic, she got defensive, and clearly couldn’t make decent conversation with anybody other than her two best friends.

She went through another glass of rosé, then started on another without thinking, planning to drink the whole damn bottle and drown herself before Finn could even notice somebody had given it to him. Maybe that would distract her from all the bizarre (and frankly, slightly shocking) thoughts she was having about Mr. Dameron.

She glanced around the room as she drank, taking in all the guests packed into the third floor apartment. More than half were faces she’d seen at uni before. She saw Rose talking with Connie from their senior-year seminar, and recognized the back of Professor Andor’s silver-streaked head, with his wife, Dr. Erso, using him as a leaning post. Across the room was Dean Mothma, and - _fuck_ , was that President Organa with her?

The fun of people watching wore off a bit after that; seeing Leia Organa was pretty much the peak of an observer’s enjoyment anyway, and she was starting to get a little bit irritable.

She always got cranky when she drank wine; she’d forgotten that. Not grumpy, per se, but dumb things could set her off far more easily than they usually did. There was a reason she stuck to beer, and she knew she’d be mentally kicking herself in the morning for the hangover she’d have.

She tried hard to squash the irritation building up in her bones, push it down until it went away entirely. That was how she dealt with her feelings. Put them in a mental trash compactor and crush all the life out of them until she could toss them in a dumpster without feeling bad about it. She didn’t confront feelings. She scared them off.

But this feeling wouldn’t go away. Not with physical stimuli egging it on.

She could feel someone standing behind her, but not close enough to want to attract her attention. She didn’t like that. She recognized that sinking feeling of being watched all too well, that air of being judged, weighed, and found wanting. It made her furious, and she spun around to confront it so fast that some of her drink sloshed out of its cup. She was probably sloshing a little bit at this point as well, but that didn’t stop her from letting out a perfectly sarcastic hiss that disguised the fear that hid just under her fury.

“Finn, I swear to fucking Christ, if that’s you, I will not hesitate to smash the nearest large object across your stupid fucking--”

Halfway through her sentence, she actually bothered to look up at the person standing behind her, and it was not Finn Franklin, her former roommate of five years and the man she’d thrown many a heavy object at for harassing her. Instead, it was Poe Dameron, guitar player and Hot Dad and guy she’d only known for about an hour, holding his tiny, two-year-old baby.

Yeah. Definitely not Finn.

Maybe it was the wine, but it seemed to Rey like he was looking at her like she was a chicken with its head cut off, and something deep down inside her told her that was not how she wanted Poe Dameron to look at her.

“Oh God.” Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “I swore in front of you. I swore in front of a _baby_.” Her head was starting to swim from the wine, but the words came out anyway, laced with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

Her gaze magnetized itself to the floor again, and she found herself studying his shoes and she rode the wave of embarrassment. They were nice shoes, probably worth more than her six-month earnings at the uni bookstore. Not only was Poe Dameron a hot dad, he was a hot dad who dressed well. And Rey had just made a total nerf herder of herself in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she heard him say with confidence, through her thoughts of calling herself a moron. “He’s heard worse from me.”

Rey scoffed. Clearly he was just trying to be nice; that’s what everybody did after they got freaked out by the scrawny engineering major with the bad mouth. They plastered on a smile, then slowly backed away like they were caught in a cage with an angry lion.

But Poe didn’t back away. Her gaze remained on his loafers, and they stayed where they were, shuffling in place to accommodate the weight of BB on his hip. She glanced from them to her own dirtied Chucks, then remembered what Dr. Mothma had said in therapy about it being rude to not make eye contact and looked back up at Poe. His face had softened again, back to that look that, to any weaker a person, would’ve instantly melted their panties. For Rey, it merely shot her body temperature up enough to make her feel like she was standing in a sauna.

“Do you wanna hold him?” he asked. “This old man’s getting kind of tired, and you look like you could use some baby love.”

_You’re hardly old_ , Rey thought. _But do I really look that upset?_

“I just swore at your baby, and you’re asking me if I want to hold him.” She laughed despite herself, quite unceremoniously. Sarcasm was her natural defense mechanism, but it felt slightly weird using it on Poe. “Sure.”

She didn’t think it was possible for the man’s smile to get any brighter, but somehow it did.

“Great!” She could practically hear the sunshine in his voice as he handed his son over to her, a woman he’d known for a handful of minutes. It made her want to explode. In a good way.

But he was right about the baby love. BB took to her almost instantly, smiling and gurgling and toying with the buttons on her overalls. Rey was shocked; usually the only reaction she got out of babies was crying and reaching for their mothers. But BB seemed perfectly at home in her arms, and for whatever reason, she felt in the right place while she was holding him. Maybe it was all the wine.

“Are you enjoying meeting new people?” Her voice lacked the tone people usually spoke to babies in - that heightened, ridiculous babbling voice that made Rey want to strangle whoever used it. Instead, she talked to the boy in an even, serious tone; he was a tiny human and deserved to be treated as much.

“Are you having fun at this party?” she asked as BB gurgled and yanked at the buckle on her overalls. “Because honestly, I’m a little bored. Finn’s never been that great at hosting. Rose and I are usually the ones that have to start the karaoke to get everybody excited again.”

She heard Poe laugh at that - a breathy, soft laugh that she could tell he was trying to hide. She didn’t understand why he would ever want to hide such a soothing laugh, but chose not to comment. Instead, she kept up her one-sided conversation with his baby.

“Your daddy is very nice for letting me hold you,” she said, “Even though I’ve just corrupted you for life. He’s very, very nice. I’m starting to wonder when Finn got such good non-Rey friends.”

BB gurgled as she bounced him, and when she looked up at Poe, she could see that he’d flushed bright red. It was probably just the effects of the stuffy room, but a small part of Rey’s brain took it as a victory.

“He’s says I’ve known Finn for about three years,” Poe replied before Rey could continue babbling to BB. “We met at some shitty bar called the First Order when we both punched the same guy for being a creep to his date. But BB is surprised to find out that Finn had such good non-Poe friends. Especially such pretty ones.”

Rey diverted all her attention back to the baby to hide the look of shock that appeared on her face. Poe had just called her pretty. Her, the bum-looking trainee pilot who was quite literally standing four feet from an amateur model. Her, who had sat in the shower for forty-five minutes tonight trying to get the grease stains off her arms that had appeared after working in the engineer’s shop at school all day. Her, the ultimate wallflower.

She tried to deflect the compliment by saying something to BB, but apparently he had decided that he’d had enough of being his dad’s flirtation proxy. So, he took his opportunity to grab a chunk of Rey’s carefully-curled-with-a-flat-iron-that-she-totally-  
burnt-herself-with hair and yanked down. Hard.

Rey bit the side of her cheek to keep from swearing in front of the kid for the second time, but the throbbing in the side of her head told her she was going to be feeling that for the rest of the night.

The baby, however, giggled like a maniac, clearly amused by the ugly expression of pain Rey knew was on her face. Rey groaned softly, and Poe blanched whiter than the shirt he was wearing.

“Shit. Sorry. I am _so_ sorry.”

He set his cup down and took BB back from Rey; she thought for a moment he was going to check her head to make sure she was okay, but his hands went to supporting BB instead. All the flirtation in his voice was gone, replaced by terror at the fact that his son had nearly torn hair out of Rey’s skull.

The kid, though, he was still smiling, like he knew what he’d done and had no regrets. Rey, even though she was in pain, could get behind that.

BB’s dad, on the other hand, looked beyond embarrassed.

“He usually doesn't get handsy like that,” he said as he bounced the boy on his hip like it was second nature. A shrug and an apologetic smile was the most he could give her as an apology, as the party was severely lacking in Tylenol, but that was enough to make Rey need to lean on the island for support. “Must mean he likes you.”

Rey could feel her face flush and hoped she could pass it off as the heat from the crowded room getting to her. She played with the piece of hair BB had yanked on and tried to hide it from view; wherever it ended up, she was just glad that her hand was blocking her bright red face from Poe’s view.

“It’s fine, really.” She could barely hear herself over the din of the crowd around her. “I had a worse time trying to curl the hair he pulled.”

Poe nodded several times, his head bobbing in time with the way he was bouncing BB.

“Good. Good.” He used his free hand to ruffle his hair, and Rey thought she saw his face flush again. Not that she was worth it, but to each his own.

“You ran away while I was playing, so I guess I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to run away again.”

Rey’s eyes practically bugged out of her head.

“Oh. God. Yeah. That.” She struggled to find words to explain herself. How do you explain that that you were suddenly, shockingly embarrassed by sharing such an intimate song with somebody, even on accident, without making that sound like a huge insult?

“That was...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know you, and I didn’t want to make it weird...but you were really good! Like, really, really good. It’s just...Jesus. Forgive me.”

She was convinced that he was going to think she was weird at the very best, but he just sighed softly and ran his hand through his hair again.

“All’s forgiven,” he replied. “At least I didn’t suck.”

Rey shook her head vigorously. “Oh God, no. You were…”

She struggled to find the right words to describe his voice without sounding like she wanted to get in his pants. Which was harder than anticipated.

“You were really...well, BB’s lucky with you singing him lullabies.”

There. That sounded successfully non-creepy. Hopefully.

“Thank you,” he replied. “It’s nice to have an audience other than a babbling baby sometimes.”

He ducked his head, making that the first time that night he’d been the one to break eye contact. Rey was surprised. Had she said something wrong?

“Speaking of that,” he muttered, “I should probably get him home. He starts to get fussy after seven. Did you see Jess anywhere?”

His head darted around the room, and suddenly Rey was all too afraid of losing him. She liked Poe Dameron. And for whatever reason, he could tolerate her. She didn’t want that to go away.

“I can walk you guys home, if you want.”

The sentence was out of her mouth before she could think it through, and once it caught Poe’s attention, she made a mental note to stick her head in a functioning oven once she got home.

“I-If that’s not creepy, I mean.” She quickly tried to course correct to keep Poe from thinking she was crazy. “You did say he liked me.”

She gestured to BB, who gurgled as if to agree with her. It almost made her crack a smile.

“Let Jess enjoy the party,” she continued. “I’m sure she’d like a little bit of a break.”

She chose to look at BB instead of Poe; she was fairly certain that, even if the baby was judging her, she wouldn’t be able to tell. He just smiled and smiled at her, with that face that looked shockingly like his father’s.

She could see Poe’s face in her periphery, and pushed back against the magnet that wanted to draw her eye to it. She kept staring at BB as he cleared his throat to reply.

“Are you sure?” he asked. His voice was doing that thing again, that thing where she could tell he was trying to hide something in it. “I don’t want to drag you away just because I look like I need help.”

“I’m sure,” Rey replied without hesitating. “I’m not that into parties anyway.”

She set her empty glass on the counter as a gesture of finality, and Poe raised his eyebrows. Truth be told, this could turn out to be a terrible idea, walking all the way home with a guy she barely knew. Hell, even if he wasn’t a creep, which was her brain’s main concern, how the hell was she going to get home? She had mace on her keys, but she had no clue where he lived, and she didn’t exactly have cab fare just chilling out in her pocket. She was a grad student. She was basically broke.

But Poe Dameron was like a drug, and she was too high to consider the consequences for too long.

She dashed out of the kitchen after Poe agreed to her plan, frantically trying to say hi and goodbye to everybody there. She quickly told Rose where they were going, not sticking around long enough to give Rose time to harass her about going home with a guy before the first date, and hauled ass towards the front door before the tiny Vietnamese girl could catch up with her. Poe gathered what Rey assumed to be a diaper bag from the coat room as she got there, along with a beat-up leather jacket, and then they were off.

“I’m leaving, Finn!” Poe called out as he opened the door. “And I’m taking your hot roommate with me!”

“Former roommate!” Finn shouted back from across the apartment, not even contesting the hot part. “See you later!”

Rey ducked her head in embarrassment, avoiding all gazes except for that of Rose, who had caught up with her to shoot her obnoxiously obvious finger guns and a wink. She shot her roommate the finger behind Poe’s back and made a mental note to murder both of her best friends the next time she saw them.

They rode the elevator down in silence, with Poe bouncing his son to the beat of the outdated elevator music. Rey played with the buckles on her overalls, adjusting where BB had yanked at them until the doors dinged for the first floor and they strolled out into the lobby.

“So. Hot roommate, huh?” She tried her best to keep her voice from shaking as she tried to make casual conversation. “You really know how to charm a girl.”

It was just sarcasm, but sarcasm that was hiding her confusion. Nobody ever complimented Rey’s looks - maybe her skills in a cockpit, or in an auto shop, but never her looks - and Poe had done it twice in the span of an hour. She was sure that he was just teasing her, leading her on to get some twisted reaction out of her.

But the look he gave her as they crossed the lobby said otherwise; it was full of the charm she’d come to expect, but still entirely innocent.

“Well, I would’ve gone for something more flattering,” he said smoothly, “But it’s kind of hard to focus when you’re trying to open a door and hold a baby at the same time.”

He looked at his son, who babbled something in Baby-ese, then back at her as they exited the complex and were hit with a wave of warm summer air.

“BB says I should’ve gone with dazzling,” he said. “I think he’s right. I’ll save that one for next time.”

_Next time._

Was he even aware what kind of weight those words held for Rey? Guys never mentioned ‘next time’ around her - not unless they were Finn and he was threatening to crush her in their next round of Fortnite. She scoffed softly, not wanting to hurt him, but not wanting to let him lead her on either.

“Next time,” she muttered, looking past him to the slowly setting summer sun. “Sure.”

She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and tried to brush it off as nothing, but Poe gave her a look that she thought seemed slightly upset.

“I mean it.” The evening air was flushing his cheeks as he looked at her, and she silently swore at the fact that it made him look even more attractive than before. “I, uh...I was going to ask you if you wanted to get coffee sometime. If I haven’t scared you off already.”

He grinned brightly at her, the strength of it rivalling the setting sun, and in that moment, Rey knew it.

Single dad Poe Dameron was going to be the death of her.

**Author's Note:**

> Last Name Clarifications:  
> Rey Kelly: Irish derivative of "comes from strife" (hey there angst)  
> Finn Franklin: Anglicized version of a word meaning "freedom"
> 
> Next Time (if I get around to writing it): Poe attempts to take Rey on a date. It goes interestingly.


End file.
